Dear Mom, I’m sorry

I was 13 years old. It was Friday the 13th and my friend was spending the night so we could watch scary movies all night. But then, I had a scary moment of my own.

I cut my ankle on my bed frame. I don’t know how I managed to do that, but it doesn’t surprise me. Stupid injuries are my specialty.

I tried to just put a bandaid on and deal. I didn’t want my mom to know. I remember that. But it kept bleeding. And it hurt like hell. And I was crying.

 

The best place to cry is in a mother's arms - Jodi Picoult

That’s how I ended up in the ER on Friday the 13th. With my mom, my friend, and my sister. I can still feel the panic and trauma from the experience. I was on the exam table. The nurse was mean and scary. I had to pee really bad and she wouldn’t let me go because she had already cleaned the wound. The doctor was coming at me with a needle pointed right at the hole in my ankle. I don’t know what came over me, but I began screaming like crazy.

“THEY’RE KILLING ME!!!”

I don’t know why they didn’t just tranquilize me because I was ridiculous.

It’s really embarrassing now, but at the time, I was terrified.

You know what happened?

I got ONE stitch. One ittty bitty stitch in my ankle.

I barely even have a scar.

Now, this is just the most ridiculous of examples of my extreme dramatics I displayed throughout my childhood and adolescence.

I’m really proud of myself for getting through childbirth and numerous kidney stones as I have, with just a normal amount of drama. (ok, so I did yell at my mom a bit much during my first baby birth, but hey, that shit is hard).

Recently, my thirteen year old has been sick. Nothing super dramatic but oh the pain and the screaming. I truly felt for her.

But I also called my mom.

I now understand why she gets that look whenever we discuss my childhood dramatics. Why she giggles maniacally whenever I moan about my motherhood challenges. “Payback,” she says, with a smirk.

After this last bout of nursing my firstborn back to health. I knew I had to do it.

I called my mom and said..

 

I’m So Sorry.

 

And someday, I expect to receive a similar phone call from my girls.

 



This Post Has 1 Comment

  1. mel says:

    It’s our job to make our mothers crazy, and so our kids follow that trend. At least we can be adult enough to admit it after all is said and done.

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